DAILY BYTE
The scriptures tell us that God does not leave us living in the land of silence alone. Instead, God has given us ears to hear one another’s cries, eyes to see one another’s pain, and places in which to sit in silent solidarity with our fellow humanity, recognizing the pain and allowing the Spirit to work to bring healing and hope.
The Book of Job reminds me of a time when I sat in the silence of pain. I was visiting families with a care worker in Cato Manor squatter camp. The group journeyed through the dirt paths to a shack holding four young women, about my age, two babies, and a grandmother. They graciously let us in, and we sat there staring at each other quietly, as they answered the care worker’s questions. With each answer to a question, I could feel a sob rising up because the faces of these women were often smiling, but their story was one of deep pain.
The grandmother’s daughter had died, leaving one of the babies behind. Home Affairs was behind in its paperwork, so they had no death certificate for the mother and no birth certificate for the baby, which meant they could not receive aide for the baby, who had a swollen belly and skin problems. They had been living in Cato Manor for over ten years in a small tin scrap and cardboard shack.
In this story you hear that the great need for lament. The care worker kept asking us if we had questions, so we tried to ask some, but it seemed that silence spoke louder than any questions or comments of concern.
And so finally it was time to leave, and all 12 of us crammed in this shack settled into a silent moment of prayer. Gradually, out of the silence rose the hum of prayer in isiZulu, in Afrikaans, in English – and as we prayed in these tongues, it was as if the wind of God was moaning and groaning for these women.
I curse the day we were born it cried, as it floated past the motherless baby. And yet, this is the day the Lord has made – this moment where God is present in God’s own creation. So let us rejoice and be glad in it, as we continue to breathe with one another in and out the breath of YAHWEH, the God who gives life, through every moment of pain and joy.
It seemed the prayer would last an eternity. And the miracle is, that it does.
As we continue to seek the face of the suffering God, the God who died on the cross, the God who took the form of vulnerable humanity, born in a shack –
As we continue to live in the silence of pain, fulfilling our great commission as people of God – the church – to be present with one another, leading one another through pain and into hope –
Through the Spirit of this God, we will remember God’s promises, we will be given the strength to hear the pain, go to places of pain, truly see the pain, and we will be able to sit in the perfect silence of the pain, without the perfect words but with the perfect mystery and hope of Christ, the rock on whom our humanity is thankfully, joyfully shipwrecked.
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Romans 8:26
Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.
PRAY AS YOU GO
Holy Spirit, when I cannot pray in the face of suffering, allow me to hear your groans. Intercede for me. Intercede for the world. Amen.
Friday, 5 June 2009
Thursday, 4 June 2009
Thursday 4th June - Sitting in Silence
DAILY BYTE
We’ve heard this week that Job’s friends respond to his suffering by hearing about it, journeying to witness it, seeing it with their own eyes, and now they respond by sitting.
They sat with him for seven perfect days. Seven perfect nights. The number seven signifies perfection or completion in the scriptures. It was perfect - humanity sitting in solidarity with humanity in the presence of the suffering God. And no words were necessary.
Later on in the Book of Job, Job’s friends make long speeches, attempting to comfort and trying somehow to justify his suffering. But, a scholar named Gutierrez says that “every true statement [in the Book of Job] comes out of silence.”
Because from this silence – which no one fills with trite phrases or nervous chitchat – comes a great moment of truth.
Out of the silence, Job curses the day he was born.
Have you ever heard someone who’s really struggling curse the day they were born?
“I wish I had never been born.”
That statement comes out of a place of deep hurt, doesn’t it?
But the presence of Job’s friends sitting with him in the silence allows room for the Spirit to groan for that hurt. Groaning grief must be expressed for true healing to occur. It is crucial for Job and for us to be able to lament, to find our voice of weeping to God – even if the things that we have to say are ugly. Even if the stories we have to tell are difficult and painful to hear.
Are we afraid of the truth that the world is a painful place? Are we afraid of the silence that will make room for that truth to be heard?
Is that why, when we hear of suffering we are hesitant to go, to see, to sit in its midst? Is it too real? Does it bring up too much of our own pain?
Even if we are afraid or hesitant, Job tells us that we must allow for silence – that we must stop filling life with noise and nervous talking. We must sit in solidarity with others, allowing the space for the Spirit to groan and bring laments of truth and healing.
Because we know that life is not always “ok.” As fragile human beings, we must admit that we do not always have all the answers and that sometimes life seems to be covered in boils, almost infected by fears and pain.
And yet, in all of this lament, God is with us, groaning and weeping, and leading us to rejoicing, turning our mourning into dancing.
What are you lamenting today?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:13 (ESV)
And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.
IF YOU ARE FEELING BRAVE…
Pray and ask God to give you the courage to go and sit with someone who is suffering.
We’ve heard this week that Job’s friends respond to his suffering by hearing about it, journeying to witness it, seeing it with their own eyes, and now they respond by sitting.
They sat with him for seven perfect days. Seven perfect nights. The number seven signifies perfection or completion in the scriptures. It was perfect - humanity sitting in solidarity with humanity in the presence of the suffering God. And no words were necessary.
Later on in the Book of Job, Job’s friends make long speeches, attempting to comfort and trying somehow to justify his suffering. But, a scholar named Gutierrez says that “every true statement [in the Book of Job] comes out of silence.”
Because from this silence – which no one fills with trite phrases or nervous chitchat – comes a great moment of truth.
Out of the silence, Job curses the day he was born.
Have you ever heard someone who’s really struggling curse the day they were born?
“I wish I had never been born.”
That statement comes out of a place of deep hurt, doesn’t it?
But the presence of Job’s friends sitting with him in the silence allows room for the Spirit to groan for that hurt. Groaning grief must be expressed for true healing to occur. It is crucial for Job and for us to be able to lament, to find our voice of weeping to God – even if the things that we have to say are ugly. Even if the stories we have to tell are difficult and painful to hear.
Are we afraid of the truth that the world is a painful place? Are we afraid of the silence that will make room for that truth to be heard?
Is that why, when we hear of suffering we are hesitant to go, to see, to sit in its midst? Is it too real? Does it bring up too much of our own pain?
Even if we are afraid or hesitant, Job tells us that we must allow for silence – that we must stop filling life with noise and nervous talking. We must sit in solidarity with others, allowing the space for the Spirit to groan and bring laments of truth and healing.
Because we know that life is not always “ok.” As fragile human beings, we must admit that we do not always have all the answers and that sometimes life seems to be covered in boils, almost infected by fears and pain.
And yet, in all of this lament, God is with us, groaning and weeping, and leading us to rejoicing, turning our mourning into dancing.
What are you lamenting today?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:13 (ESV)
And they sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.
IF YOU ARE FEELING BRAVE…
Pray and ask God to give you the courage to go and sit with someone who is suffering.
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
Wednesday 3rd June - Clinging to the Rock
DAILY BYTE
The theologian Karl Barth says, “Job is like a sailor, clinging to the rock on which he’s shipwrecked.”
We have discussed being in the midst of suffering this week. This is not an easy topic. It is not an easy task. So, when we go to places of suffering and stay there in the midst of it, what do we cling to?
Some would say that if you have to “cling” to something, you are a weakling, not strong enough to stand on your own without a crutch. But perhaps, clinging to something is not a sign that our weakness is bad and should be rejected but it is an acknowledgment that our weakness is simply the reality of being human. We may like to think that we are superhuman, but really, we are just plainly and wonderfully human.
When we cling to God, the rock who created us as fragile, breakable creatures, we glimpse a great mystery. We see a greater vision of the face of Christ – the rock that suffered for and suffers with every shipwrecked, broken human being.
And so, Job’s friends heard about this great mystery of suffering, and they dared to go and journey to it. But then, they see it for themselves. Hearing about something like a shipwreck and actually seeing it are two very different experiences, are they not? Before visiting a place like an AIDS hospice, you might imagine a little of what it would be like, but it is completely different actually going there and sitting with people in the midst of their suffering.
When Job’s friends saw him, the Scriptures say, “they lifted up their eyes,” as if toward heaven, but instead, their eyes met their friend, and they could hardly recognize him – this boil-ridden, grief-stricken, fragile human being.
And when they realized what had happened to him, they “lifted up their voices,” but not with words. They lifted up their voices with weeping for him and with him. No words are necessary.
All they could do was rip their clothes – showing their mourning and distress, and they threw dust heavenward – toward the God who had made Job, who made us all from the crumbling dust of the earth.
This moment of wailing is a moment of solidarity between the whole of humanity and the whole Spirit of God, who is present within every moment, every gesture, every wail.
When you see and experience the presence of suffering, where do you see God present in it? In someone’s crying? In other acts of grief? Do you feel shipwrecked like Job? Why can you and do you cling to this God?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:12 (ESV)
And when they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him. And they raised their voices and wept, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads toward heaven.
The theologian Karl Barth says, “Job is like a sailor, clinging to the rock on which he’s shipwrecked.”
We have discussed being in the midst of suffering this week. This is not an easy topic. It is not an easy task. So, when we go to places of suffering and stay there in the midst of it, what do we cling to?
Some would say that if you have to “cling” to something, you are a weakling, not strong enough to stand on your own without a crutch. But perhaps, clinging to something is not a sign that our weakness is bad and should be rejected but it is an acknowledgment that our weakness is simply the reality of being human. We may like to think that we are superhuman, but really, we are just plainly and wonderfully human.
When we cling to God, the rock who created us as fragile, breakable creatures, we glimpse a great mystery. We see a greater vision of the face of Christ – the rock that suffered for and suffers with every shipwrecked, broken human being.
And so, Job’s friends heard about this great mystery of suffering, and they dared to go and journey to it. But then, they see it for themselves. Hearing about something like a shipwreck and actually seeing it are two very different experiences, are they not? Before visiting a place like an AIDS hospice, you might imagine a little of what it would be like, but it is completely different actually going there and sitting with people in the midst of their suffering.
When Job’s friends saw him, the Scriptures say, “they lifted up their eyes,” as if toward heaven, but instead, their eyes met their friend, and they could hardly recognize him – this boil-ridden, grief-stricken, fragile human being.
And when they realized what had happened to him, they “lifted up their voices,” but not with words. They lifted up their voices with weeping for him and with him. No words are necessary.
All they could do was rip their clothes – showing their mourning and distress, and they threw dust heavenward – toward the God who had made Job, who made us all from the crumbling dust of the earth.
This moment of wailing is a moment of solidarity between the whole of humanity and the whole Spirit of God, who is present within every moment, every gesture, every wail.
When you see and experience the presence of suffering, where do you see God present in it? In someone’s crying? In other acts of grief? Do you feel shipwrecked like Job? Why can you and do you cling to this God?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:12 (ESV)
And when they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him. And they raised their voices and wept, and they tore their robes and sprinkled dust on their heads toward heaven.
Tuesday, 2 June 2009
Tuesday 2nd June - Hearing the silence
DAILY BYTE
When my mom was dying, I remember very little of what people said to me, but I do remember vividly hours and hours of silence. We have all entered rooms or conversations where sufficient words to combat the pain or relieve the suffering escape us.
Often we try to fill the silences with common sayings – like “It is God’s will” and “Everything will be ok” – when we know it’s simply not that easy. We dare to say, “I know how you feel…” when we couldn’t possibly.
We have used these words to fill the silence, but why is it that we are so afraid of silence? Why is it that we try so hard to make our words function as the Holy Spirit instead of allowing the Holy Spirit to be in and around and filling the absence of our words?
Why is it that when people are suffering or in need, we insist that we must say the perfect thing and “do” something to fix it instead of simply being present in the midst of it? Why are we so busy filling the silence with our deeds of feeding others, clothing them, making our homes perfect to impress them, or nursing them to health that we forget to sit in silence and recognize the face of the God in them, which they can then see in us?
Let’s hear today what the Book of Job may have to say about this, keeping four things in mind this week: Job’s friends heard. They came. They saw, and they sat.
Job has lost his children, his property, his health, and he’s covered in boils. His is the face of unimaginable suffering, and when his friends hear about what has happened to him, they make a decision. They decide to come to meet him.
They come from different places and different journeys – just as each of us do – but they are still all countrymen of Job – they’ve all got a common humanity.
And so, having heard the need of a fellow human being, they make an appointment together to “console and comfort him.” In the Scriptures, this is a traditional expression of being in solidarity with someone in grief. It is a gesture of compassion and friendship, and if it’s missing, it makes suffering even more difficult to endure.
Being sick or sad does tend to seem less difficult when we’re not alone. Perhaps this is because when we involve ourselves in hearing the cries of people who are suffering, we involve ourselves deeper and deeper with a God who suffered for us and suffers with us.
Are your ears open to hearing the suffering of others? And if you can hear it, do you dare to go and meet it face to face? Do you actually believe that this can draw humanity closer to God?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:11 (ESV)
Now when Job's three friends heard of all this evil that had come upon him, they came each from his own place, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They made an appointment together to come to show him sympathy and comfort him.
PRAY AS YOU GO
God, you hear us when we suffer. You come to us when we need you. In fact, you are with us all the time because we need you all the time. Help us to hear the cries of your people and have the courage to respond. Amen.
When my mom was dying, I remember very little of what people said to me, but I do remember vividly hours and hours of silence. We have all entered rooms or conversations where sufficient words to combat the pain or relieve the suffering escape us.
Often we try to fill the silences with common sayings – like “It is God’s will” and “Everything will be ok” – when we know it’s simply not that easy. We dare to say, “I know how you feel…” when we couldn’t possibly.
We have used these words to fill the silence, but why is it that we are so afraid of silence? Why is it that we try so hard to make our words function as the Holy Spirit instead of allowing the Holy Spirit to be in and around and filling the absence of our words?
Why is it that when people are suffering or in need, we insist that we must say the perfect thing and “do” something to fix it instead of simply being present in the midst of it? Why are we so busy filling the silence with our deeds of feeding others, clothing them, making our homes perfect to impress them, or nursing them to health that we forget to sit in silence and recognize the face of the God in them, which they can then see in us?
Let’s hear today what the Book of Job may have to say about this, keeping four things in mind this week: Job’s friends heard. They came. They saw, and they sat.
Job has lost his children, his property, his health, and he’s covered in boils. His is the face of unimaginable suffering, and when his friends hear about what has happened to him, they make a decision. They decide to come to meet him.
They come from different places and different journeys – just as each of us do – but they are still all countrymen of Job – they’ve all got a common humanity.
And so, having heard the need of a fellow human being, they make an appointment together to “console and comfort him.” In the Scriptures, this is a traditional expression of being in solidarity with someone in grief. It is a gesture of compassion and friendship, and if it’s missing, it makes suffering even more difficult to endure.
Being sick or sad does tend to seem less difficult when we’re not alone. Perhaps this is because when we involve ourselves in hearing the cries of people who are suffering, we involve ourselves deeper and deeper with a God who suffered for us and suffers with us.
Are your ears open to hearing the suffering of others? And if you can hear it, do you dare to go and meet it face to face? Do you actually believe that this can draw humanity closer to God?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Job 2:11 (ESV)
Now when Job's three friends heard of all this evil that had come upon him, they came each from his own place, Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They made an appointment together to come to show him sympathy and comfort him.
PRAY AS YOU GO
God, you hear us when we suffer. You come to us when we need you. In fact, you are with us all the time because we need you all the time. Help us to hear the cries of your people and have the courage to respond. Amen.
Monday, 1 June 2009
Monday June 1 - The Voice of Silence
DAILY BYTE
The Book of Job is not a frequently perused, nice-to-read-at-bedtime or cheery-greet-the-beautiful-morning text… Most people tread lightly around it. There’s too much suffering in it and too much shouting at God.
But it seems to me that this text brings exactly the kind of hope and light that we need because our lives, as we encounter many people and places of both pain and hope, seem often to mirror Job’s.
And so, although it’s slightly intimidating, let’s venture into these waters this week and think seriously about the ways we, as people who desire a deeper relationship with God, engage with one another and with God in the midst of suffering.
We’ve just celebrated Pentecost, a time when we are awed by the ways that the Holy Spirit has moved through speaking in many different tongues. We praise people who can articulate what they hear and see through proficiency with language. Preachers and writers, of course, are the first ones to prize communication through speaking and conversing!
But we seem to be missing something crucial about our communication with God and with one another if we forget about how the Spirit of God has worked in the midst of silences.
I thought about simply leaving this Monday’s devotional blank – allowing for, perhaps, a welcome silence in the relentless drone of the day. However, I thought the better of it, since it seemed slightly awkward and confusing to receive a devotional with nothing in it…
So even though this message is full of words, take a few moments today to reflect on what you hear and see in moments of silence.
Because if you’ve ever been present in the midst of suffering or pain, you know that silence has a voice of its own.
What does God’s voice in the silence say to you today?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Lamentations 3:25-28 (NRSV)
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth, to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it…
The Book of Job is not a frequently perused, nice-to-read-at-bedtime or cheery-greet-the-beautiful-morning text… Most people tread lightly around it. There’s too much suffering in it and too much shouting at God.
But it seems to me that this text brings exactly the kind of hope and light that we need because our lives, as we encounter many people and places of both pain and hope, seem often to mirror Job’s.
And so, although it’s slightly intimidating, let’s venture into these waters this week and think seriously about the ways we, as people who desire a deeper relationship with God, engage with one another and with God in the midst of suffering.
We’ve just celebrated Pentecost, a time when we are awed by the ways that the Holy Spirit has moved through speaking in many different tongues. We praise people who can articulate what they hear and see through proficiency with language. Preachers and writers, of course, are the first ones to prize communication through speaking and conversing!
But we seem to be missing something crucial about our communication with God and with one another if we forget about how the Spirit of God has worked in the midst of silences.
I thought about simply leaving this Monday’s devotional blank – allowing for, perhaps, a welcome silence in the relentless drone of the day. However, I thought the better of it, since it seemed slightly awkward and confusing to receive a devotional with nothing in it…
So even though this message is full of words, take a few moments today to reflect on what you hear and see in moments of silence.
Because if you’ve ever been present in the midst of suffering or pain, you know that silence has a voice of its own.
What does God’s voice in the silence say to you today?
GUIDING SCRIPTURE
Lamentations 3:25-28 (NRSV)
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth, to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it…
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